


Jonny D'Ville and the Search For Meaning

by OnceAndFloral



Category: The Mechanisms (Band)
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Study, Jonny gets forcefully put through character development, a little bit of, i love marius but he is a bad doctor, philosophical conversations, you can tell i'm working through some shit but thank you for bearing with me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-13
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:06:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24158581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OnceAndFloral/pseuds/OnceAndFloral
Summary: Jonny is a bitter, immortal space pirate who doesn't think there's much meaning to anything. However, in his travels he meets some people and has to listen to what they have to say.
Comments: 36
Kudos: 143





	1. Life

Something about Marius bugs Jonny. He watches him flit about the Aurora like a bird, rushing to whatever catches his fancy. He's not all that different when they go planetside, either, but that isn't what bothers Jonny.

Marius wants to be a doctor. Wants, because he isn't one. Jonny doesn't think that Marius could properly point to one vital organ on an unlabeled diagram. He'd once heard about the concept where people lacked the knowledge they needed to properly understand how bad they were at something. Jonny believes this to be true for Marius.

But the thing is, if Marius didn't _understand_ medical science, why does he want to be a doctor so damn bad? Even Brian, an actually licensed professional, didn't get so excitable over it. 

Jonny is lying in the medbay after getting his right leg blown off by Tim during a scuffle in the canon bay, and Marius hums rather loudly off to the side. He's sorting his medical cabinet for the sixth time this hour, and Jonny can't stand up to get his gun and blow Marius’ brains out just so he doesn't have to listen to the clinking of bottles any longer.

“What the hell are you _doing?”_ Jonny finally snaps.

Marius has the gall to look offended. “I'm making sure that my layout is optimal for when I'll need it!”

“Well, would you like to focus on helping the patient you actually have right now?” Jonny gestures to the wad of towels Marius used to stem the bleeding while he leg grew back. “This is the sorriest excuse for care I've ever seen.”

“You're being awfully rude to the man giving you service.”

“This is what always happens though, isn't it? One of us comes to the med bay, we rib you about how much you don't know what the fuck you're doing, and still you act like it's a surprise or that you're a good doctor.”

Marius makes an indignant sound, snapping the cabinet doors shut. “I'm sorry that I want to be nice!”

“Why do you do this?” 

“I just said I'm trying to be nice!”

“No, why do you want to be a _doctor?”_ Jonny’s voice drips with malice. “Why this of all things?”

Marius’ face goes deadly serious at that. It almost sends a chill down Jonny’s spine to not see a grin or cartoonish frustration. Without a word, he grabs a chair, pulls it to the side of Jonny’s cot and sits down.

“You really want to know?” He asks.

“I…” Jonny is almost having second thoughts with how solemn Marius has become. He shakes himself out of it. He didn't have anything to fear from Marius von Raum. “Yes.”

Marius studies him carefully, as if searching for something that might prove Jonny unworthy. Then he leans forward like someone about to tell a great secret. “I think that life is gorgeous. Doctors are people who work so intimately with it, and I've always wanted to be a part of that. To help preserve it, though not unnaturally of course.”

Jonny has to take a few metaphorical steps back to get a handle on what he was just told. Then he barks out a laugh. “Oh, my god. That's one of the stupidest things I've ever heard.”

Surprisingly, Marius remains impassive. “Oh?”

“Life isn't the inherently good thing that you're acting like it is,” Jonny sneers. “More often than not people choose to be awful. After all, look at us. As immortals shouldn't we be the picture of life that everyone looks to as an example? And here we are, broken beyond repair, and taking that pain out on everyone else.

“Look at our stories. Name one person who came close to immortality and was a good person. Cole, the Olympians, Odin, they're all violent and tyrannical dictators. Life corrupts people.”

“So that's what life is to you?”

“That's what it is for _everyone.”_ He struggles to sit up, ignoring the pain flaring up in his leg. “Everyone stays alive out of spite or stupidity, or because they're forced to.”

Marius nods, and sits back in his seat. “You hate being alive.”

“I… Yes! I thought this was established information! You were there when I tried that singularity stunt.”

“The thing is,” Marius muses. “I think that you project your own dissatisfaction and anger towards your own existence onto everything else. To you, there must be something wrong with life itself or you wouldn't feel that way.”

Jonny's heart would have dropped were it not nailed into place. “That isn't true. My previous points still stand.”

“Then how about I tell you this.” He crosses his legs, smiling serenely. “You are placing a false equivalence on immortality being the example of life that everyone strives to. Life is wonderful _because_ it ends. You're given your allotted time in the universe to leave your mark, and you always do. The people in our stories die, and it's beautiful not because what comes after, but what came before. Life isn't defined by immortals, it's defined by everyone who isn't.”

Jonny grips the thin sheets beneath him. It didn't make any sense to him. “And all of that makes you want to be a doctor?”

The smile breaks out into a grin. “Yes! To be the reason that life is sustained would be amazing. I don't endorse unnecessary death, you know. I like people to realize how amazing they are”

Jonny doesn't speak again while he's in the med bay. He can't. Thankfully his leg grows back not too long after the end of their conversation. Marius chatters on as he lets Jonny lean on him for a lap around the room to get used to having nerves again. And then, after all that, it's time for him to leave so he can get revenge on Tim and some new pants.

He pauses at the door. “Marius?”

“Hm?”

“You said life is beautiful because it ends. What does that say about your life?”

Jonny watches him carefully for any signs of strain or doubt, but if it's an act he doesn't crack. He merely says, “I'll just have to keep on going and find out, won't I? And isn't that something else that's wonderful?”


	2. Love

Fort Galfridian is a lot like New Texas. Sure, it's hotter because the whole thing was metal and it's approximately a few million miles closer to the sun, but the point stood.

It's a real shame that it was going to be driven into a burning inferno.

So he was having a little bit of fun while it lasted. Hanging with the groups of bandits turned out to be some good fun. He’d changed hands a couple of times during squabbles that ended with his band getting wiped out, but that was fine by him. Most of them were boring motherfuckers who couldn’t hold a conversation to save their lives. Jonny was here for the violence. All in all, it was going pretty great until his current gang decided to fuck with Arthur Pendragon.

Jonny had to fucking hand it to him. He gunned all of them down in a minute flat. It was the practiced, graceful kind of violence that Jonny usually only saw in the hands of the Mechanisms, or Marquis de All The Knives. The bastard even got Jonny himself. He wakes up a minute or two later, to Arthur digging through the pockets of the body next to him. It doesn’t last very long, because when Arthur notices he puts his gun to Jonny’s forehead and pulls the trigger.

It’s another bit of time before Jonny regenerates again, and this time it’s with a killer headache. He groans, sitting up.

“Huh.” He hears from nearby. Jonny looks over and finds Arthur staring at him with the suspicious kind of bewilderment.

“What do you want?” Jonny sneers.

“Thought I shot you in the head, is all,” Arthur says slowly.

“You did, and now I have a migraine, so thanks for that.” Jonny starts to rise to his feet, and hears the click of a gun as Arthur aims at him again. “Oh, third time’s the charm, right? You should know that doesn’t work by now.”

Arthur’s eyes narrow. He clearly didn’t know what to think about that, but what was he going to do? Shoot Jonny again? He could waste all the ammo he wanted.

“Where are the other Pendragons?” Jonny asks.

“We got separated by another gang of bandits. I was on my way back home when you lot tried to get the jump on me.”

“Ah, apologies then.”

Arthur walks over and nudges Jonny with his foot. “Stand up.”

“What for?”

“I shot you twice, and you came back both times. There’s somethin’ up with you and we can figure that out back in Camelot.”

Yes, the place where Jonny strung up Brian. He _did_ suppose Brian was still going to be bitter about that, but Jonny figured he could just wait until Arthur camped up and fell asleep to sneak away. He didn’t want to kill the man, he still had a story to live through.

“Alright then.” Jonny hops up, dusting off his pants. “Let’s get going then, shall we?”

Arthur must have lost his ride when he got split from Guinevere and Lancelot, because they were walking. A lot of walking. Way too much fucking walking. Jonny is two seconds away from shooting himself and forcing Arthur to drag his corpse when the cowboy holds up a hand.

“We can rest here for the night,” He says.

“Fucking finally, I-”

Arthur throws out a hand and grabs Jonny’s arm. _“Jesus,_ don’t just sit down without any protection! No wonder you’ve got super healing, you’d be dead without it.”

Well. He wasn’t wrong. 

He watches Arthur take out a thick blanket from his pack and lay it on the ground. Jonny frowns at the hole cut right into the middle until he pulls out a pan and sets it on the burning hot metal.

“Have a seat,” Arthur invites, already settling down with a packet of… something to put into the pan. Jonny didn’t really understand the agricultural system of Galfridian beyond that it was hydroponics based. He supposed that in that sense he didn’t understand the agricultural system of _any_ planet.

“I don’t think I want to,” Jonny squints.

“You have the choice of hanging with me, or you can go out and die of starvation. Or heat stroke, whichever one gets you first.”

Hm. The problem was that even though Jonny didn’t mind dying in the simplest sense of the word, those were both very long and unpleasant deaths and Jonny was _not_ vibing with it. Out of the two options, sitting at a campfire was less painful. Though he would be complaining about it. 

“I always wanted to ask you-” Jonny says after a period where the only sound is the contents sizzling in the pan. “-why do you keep your morals? You try so hard to keep Camelot running for everyone when it would be easier to keep its resources to yourself.”

“Why do you ask?”

“Character motivations are important for the writing process,” Jonny says bluntly. This seems to confuse Arthur, but he answers anyway.

“I do it for the people I love.”

Jonny tries not to laugh. He really does. It doesn’t work, and Arthur sends a glare his way. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, just… I never really did understand the point of love.”

Arthur’s glare fades and he nods, like Jonny just confirmed one of his suspicions. “So you’re one of those types, huh?”

“What types?”

He clears his throat and speaks in a _very_ shitty imitation of Jonny’s accent. “Love is pointless. I am a very strong and mature person, and because of that I am above emotions, especially affection.”

“I _do not_ sound like that!”

“What was it? I’ve been working on setting up live arts in Camelot, so pointers would be appreciated.”

“If you're so certain about everything, what's your take on love?”

Arthur looks into the pan, picking it up and mixing around the food inside. Was he really going to give up that easy? Jonny was at least suspecting a little philosophical debate here

“Love looks different without makeup,” Arthur speaks up.

“Beg your pardon,” Jonny blinks.

Arthur sets the pan down again. “When I was younger I had this girl I liked real bad. She was a pretty thing, real careful like with her presentation. I fell asleep after taking her home one night, ‘n when I woke up she was right there with me. And boy, yea, did she look different without the makeup. But I still loved her.”

“What's your point?”

“Love isn't easy, but it doesn't make itself hard, understand?” He pulls out a flask from his pack and takes a sip, leaning back. “Nowadays I got two partners, and neither of ‘em wear all that much makeup, but the point still stands. I discover new things about them and they can be beautiful or they can be strange. Sometimes I don't understand it. But that's part of the beauty of it, ain't it? That even though you'll never fully understand them, that means you can notice new things about someone for the rest of your life.”

Jonny thinks about that for a bit. “What if there is no ‘rest of your life’? It just keeps going.”

Arthur shrugs, surprisingly rolling with the question. “That's a lot of time for folks to change. You'll notice things then, too.” 

“How do you know you love someone?”

He looks thoughtful. “I was never one for tryin’ to contain all my love, platonic or romantic. It can be hard to tell, I'll admit. Sometimes the realization is gradual, and sometimes it hits you all at once and you feel stupid for not recognizing it before. It's your realization to make, though. I can't tell you what it feels like for you.” Arthur holds out his flask to Jonny. “Want some?”

He accepts it, and he doesn't even drink it all in one go out of spite. “So when will the food be done?”

Arthur scoffs as he takes the flask back and knocks it back. “You young people. It'll be ready when it's ready”

“I can guarantee I'm older than you are.”

He looks at Jonny over the edge of his flask. "Ya certainly don't act it."

The rest of the night is uneventful. They sleep, pack up, and show up in Camelot a day later. Arthur drops all of his supplies to the ground to fully sprint and throw himself into Lancelot and Guinevere’s arms. Jonny stops by Brian’s gallows.

“How does our dear Merlin fare?” Jonny asks.

“I've been better.” Ah, damn. Brian's voice was monotone in the way it was whenever he was angry. “Have you come to let me down?”

“I think we both know that's not how the story goes.”

“Right.”

Jonny watches the Pendragons chattering at each other about their adventures on the way back home. He notices Arthur gesture to him once or twice. That's nice. He hopes he'll become a folk tale or something when he leaves, before Galfridian burns. Jonny waits for the Pendragons to go fetch something before he starts making his way out of town again. He'd had his fun with the station, he should leave it all in Brian's hands until the end.

As he walks past the window of a building, he notices his reflection. Jonny lifts a hand to his cheek, brushing his fingertips around the places where his makeup has smudged. He'd have to fix it when he got back to the Aurora. For one brief moment, Jonny wonders what the others would think if he showed up without it.

And then he leaves.


	3. Time

Jonny _loves_ The City. The towering buildings, the stench of blood, tears and cigarette smoke, and the fact that one wrong turn and you've suddenly gotten yourself lost in a labyrinth of streets. If Fort Galfridian was similar to New Texas, then The City was its complement.

He spends most of his time ‘depopulating’ the lower levels, but there's time for creature comforts as well. He's particularly fond of the bars and speakeasies. Jonny avoids the ones that the Toy Soldier frequents, he doesn't trust its taste in alcohol, but there's other fun ones. His favorite is a little unnamed dive in one of the more poorly lit districts. Unnamed on account of the fact that the door was hidden right into a mural of street art, so there's no place for a sign. Jonny adores it.

Jonny hops up on one of the bar stools, wiping the blood off his face from his earlier activities. Normally no one gave him shit about if anyways, but if they did he could just flash his Hades Card (patent pending) or kill them too. It depended on his mood.

He's enjoying a glass of whiskey when someone comes stumbling drunkenly through the door and hauls themself on a stool next to them. They mumble an order to the bartender, and absolutely _reek_ of booze.

“I'm guessing you didn't get that smell from a rubbing alcohol incident at the hospital?” Jonny quips.

“Calypso’s kicked me out,” they mutter.

Jonny's only ever been in Calypso’s once, so he can't comment much. “Still partying the night away then, aren't we?”

“You could say something like that.”

They were truly a thrilling conversationalist. “I'm Jonny d’Ville.”

“... Nemo.”

“Interesting name. Reminds me of a captain I knew a while back.”

They make a noncommittal noise. Christ, Jonny didn’t even know why he was trying. As fun as the rest of it was, The City’s denizens were not usually great at conversation. Or at least the more interesting ones. Jonny found that the chatty aristocrats were mostly full of hot air. 

So Jonny and Nemo enjoyed their respective drinks in silence for a time. Jonny watches them, just to see what their whole deal is. They have a distant look in their eyes, like they’re always looking at something just behind the wall. He wonders what they’re thinking about. They seem like the type that uses alcohol to quiet the thoughts in their head, and it usually falls just short of doing so. Jonny could relate.

“Do you ever think about time?” Nemo asks quietly after most of the other patrons have cleared out for the night. Only a few stragglers remain in the corner.

Jonny looks at them from the corner of his eye. “Mm, not particularly. I find that it all slips by quite quickly for me.”

“That’s not what I mean.” They lace their fingers around their whiskey glass. “About how we relate to the future.”

“I’m afraid you’ll have to specify a tad more.”

Nemo leans forward, hunching over the bar. They get a wary look from the bartender, but he doesn’t move to reprimand him, so it seems fine for now. “We hold tomorrow up like it's a god, but we’ll never be able to reach it. We’re stuck in today forever.”

Damn, Jonny should use that line for a song. “People need the idea of tomorrow, though. I find it’s usually what keeps them going.”

“It shouldn’t, though.” Nemo holds their glass close to their face, squinting at the contents like there’s a bug or the secrets of the universe in it. “What if the thing you’re waiting for never comes and you wasted all those todays over it.”

“I'm immortal, I can literally wait as long as I need for things.”

They roll their eyes. “That old chestnut. You're just holding off your own happiness, you know.”

“Fuck off.” Jonny says it good-naturedly, at least as much as he can for a person he just met. 

“Think about it. You're just placing invisible boundaries for yourself. ‘I'll be happy when I meet the right guy, I'll be happy when I get that promotion.’ Even if you do get to that point, you're just going to be looking for the next milestone. That's fine in crisis mode, but it's no way to live.”

“So setting goals is bad, then?” Jonny snorts.

_“No,_ that’s not what I’m saying, I…” They sigh. “Do you consider yourself a happy man?”

“Not particularly.”

“When _will _l you be happy?”__

__He ponders this for a moment. He used to think it would be when he was dead, but after his conversation with Marius he wasn't quite sure. “I don’t know.”_ _

__“Why aren’t you happy today? I’m not… I’m not _saying_ that being happy is a choice, you just have to ask yourself why you’ve decided that the future is the only time when you can be as such.”_ _

__Jonny thinks for a second, and then responds. “I really don’t understand what you’re trying to talk about.”_ _

__Nemo makes a frustrated noise. “I don’t even know what I’m saying.”_ _

__“Yes, you are very drunk right now.”_ _

__“My head is going to hurt so bad in the morning,” they whine._ _

__Jonny smirks. “Ah, you should focus more on today than what will happen tomorrow.”_ _

__“Don’t be a cocky bastard.” They stand up, swaying dangerously. Jonny watches to see if they’ll fall over, but unfortunately no such thing happens. “I’m leaving since you’re being cruel.”_ _

__What was really cruel was that Jonny was going to let them leave while they were that drunk. The City was not kind to people who let their guard down. Even if this wasn’t their first time wandering the streets inebriated, the wolf only needs to be lucky once and all that. Nemo leaves, only stumbling into one chair on the way out._ _

__Jonny takes a thoughtful drink of his whiskey. He had an infinite amount of tomorrows in front of him. He didn’t have to worry about the things that Nemo was talking about, as rambling as it was. Besides, he had a big day ahead of him._ _

__Tomorrow._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if it wasn't clear nemo is ulysesses. jonny rolled a nat 1 on his insight check lmao.


	4. Death

Jonny d’Ville gets stabbed in the chest in a bar fight, and he’s not surprised to feel nothing.

His legs give out underneath him, but he keeps his composure as always. He’ll be right back up in a few minutes anyways. While he’s on the floor, he takes the time to appreciate how the lights in the ceiling cast a golden glow over the carnage. One of them glares into the corner of his eyes, scattering colors like a lens flare on a camera.

The noise of the fight around him dulls, and the sharp sound of footsteps cuts clearly through it. Like someone walking across the stage in a theater while it rains outside. A figure stands over him. They wear a long, dark trench coat, and the lights above frame their head like a halo so Jonny can’t make out their features. If he believed in such things, he might’ve thought that he was looking at the spirit of death itself. 

“Oh. It’s you.” They sound disappointed.

Jonny squints to try and see their face. “Yes, it’s me. Who are you?”

“I’m insulted, Jonny. And here I thought that after making a whole album stealing my voice you’d remember me.”

The prismatic flare clears as they kneel down beside him, and Jonny sees the features of someone who has spent too many late nights studying files and braids from New Midgard. 

“Lyfrassir?” Jonny croaks.

“Sort of.” The former inspector cracks their neck to the side, rolls back their shoulders. He can see a deep and intense hatred in their eyes, hidden just beneath a veneer of calm detachment. 

“How are you here?”

“To sound like your own archivist, there was only a 0.0002% chance I escaped Yggdrasil without taking a piece of the Bifrost with me. I’m sure there’s a universe out there where it happened, but it’s not this one. Or maybe it is, and I’m just dropping in from mine. It’s very difficult to tell these things nowadays.”

“Are you just going to keep talking at me until I regenerate?”

Lyfrassir looks almost sympathetic. “Oh, Jonny. You won't regenerate, you’re dead.”

That’s the moment that he realizes his heart isn’t ticking in order to stop at Lyfrassir’s words. “What?”

“This is your fading conscience. I’m the only one here who can see you.”

Jonny looks around. He’d assumed that everyone had just ignored him because they were caught up in the fight. Maybe they were, maybe Lyfrassir was lying to him.

“No,” Jonny asserts. “I’m not dead. I _know_ what death is like, and this isn’t it.”

Lyfrassir scoffs. “You don’t know the first thing about it.”

“I am far more intimate with death than anyone in this room,” He snarls. “No one else here has seen the things I’ve seen.”

“Death comes for everyone, Jonny, but you’ve deluded yourself into thinking you’re exempt from that. You never understood it. How could you, when you never really experienced it in its full capacity? You claim that you fooled everyone, but the only one you fooled is yourself.”

There is a long and pregnant pause. “I think you know why I’m the one that’s here,” Lyfrassir says softly.

Jonny swallows. “You represent everyone in the Yggdrasil system.”

“Right on the money. Maybe you should be the detective.” Lyfrassir looks sadder now. “Eighty eight billion people. Do you know how unfathomable that is? Eighty eight billion lives cut too short.” 

“So, what, we inadvertently turned you into a grim reaper and you’re here to lord it over me?”

“You misunderstand the nature of what I am. But that’s okay. It'll end soon anyways.”

Jonny looks back at the lights. They seem dimmer now. “I had more stories to tell.”

“Maybe so. The problem is that death doesn’t really care about that. That’s the trick, though, you can’t let yourself get lost in the prospect of your own demise. You know it’s going to happen, so the only thing you can do is love life. It’s a balancing act.”

“But-”

“Did you see the beauty that life has? Did you take off your makeup? Did you stop living for tomorrow?”

“No.”

“Why didn’t you? You had so many chances to make a change, and now you have to look back and regret you didn’t take them.”

“I thought I had more time,” Jonny says.

“So you didn’t listen to the one you know as Nemo. You waited for the undefinable ‘better’ day to do the things you wanted.”

“I thought that I was alone.”

“Arthur’s words meant nothing to you? You couldn’t take it upon yourself to show yourself to another or see something new in them?”

“I thought that it was all pointless.”

Lyfrassir smiles softly, without malice. “If you had just stopped viewing yourself as the end goal, it might’ve had one.”

Something hurts where Jonny’s heart used to be. “Why are you telling me this now?” He whispers. “When I’m already about to die.”

Lyfrassir shrugs. “I thought you deserved to know.”

“That’s it, then? You give me this as if it won’t leave my last moments in torture.”

“It’s about to become important. It’ll help you make a decision.”

“Oh yea? And what decision is that.”

Lyfrassir studies his face, glances at something across the room, then exhales. “I’m here to do one thing for you.”

“Why?”

“You may have let Yggdrasil die, but you didn’t let it go unknown. I hate you for using me, but if that’s what allows people to know we existed then I owe you one favor.”

Jonny thinks. What was he going to ask of the eldritch personification of death and extinction? Did they have the power to save him? Maybe that was their angle. To hold Jonny in front of all the ways he’d approached life wrong like the Ghost of the Future in that stupid story so that he could recognize it and approach life with a new vigor. 

He meets Lyfrassir’s eyes. No. That wasn’t right. Jonny had to accept this, that he would die, and now was that time. 

“If I'll die, that means the others will too, right?” He asks. Lyfrassir nods. “How?”

“I can’t give you details other than that you all die alone.”

Jonny closes his eyes. “Can you be with them when they die, then? So they at least have that comfort?”

The sound of the fight has completely died away now. Jonny fears that if he opens his eyes, he’ll see nothing.

“That was the right decision.”

A knot releases in Jonny’s chest. He thinks it might’ve been the last thing keeping him alive, but without the tightness, he feels free to laugh. Laugh because a million years ago he never would have been able to imagine himself using a boon given by a demigod to give someone solace. That Jonny might’ve considered him stupid for it. 

He imagines that Tim will be angry about it. To have whatever battle he’s in interrupted by a stranger, because Jonny can’t conceive of Tim dying anywhere except fighting something. He hopes Lyfrassir annoys the hell out of Marius. Payback for New Midgard.

Maybe they’ll see something new Raphaella’s side. Brian will probably appreciate it the most, he always hated being lonely. Ivy will more than likely spend her last moments archiving a statement from them. Jonny _knows_ Ashes will put on a show. They were always flashy. The Toy Soldier, as always, will be happy to just be included. Maybe, whenever she is, Lyfrassir will even find Nastya.

Jonny laughs until he cries. It’s out of relief, really. Maybe he really did learn something. He’ll never really get to know though, because a few moments later, he can no longer even hear his laughter. The last thing he feels is a hand on his shoulder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oops. i'm sorry. at least the mechs aren't alone when they die anymore. anyways that's the end! sorry, this was all a really weird philosophy dump lol. I'm happy to take questions n shit, either here or on tumblr @nonbinarylyfrassiredda

**Author's Note:**

> rip jonny for having to think about life in shades of grey and rip to marius for having to explain his life philosophy. and one more rip to jonny for having to be marius' patient.


End file.
